Dreams of the Future
by gRIITO
Summary: Marco x Reader x Jean
1. Prologue

- Prologue -

* * *

It hurt.

It hurt so much more than any physical injury you had received in your life thus far.

The tears felt like acid as they streamed down your face. Your body felt cold, as if all the heat in the world had evaporated along with hot blood around you.

You stood there, staring at the man you cared for more than any other. The man who gave you hope, you would smile at you and tell you it would all be okay. The man who told you it was okay to dream. The only good thing left in this pitiful world.

You couldn't feel the sun as it beat down on the streets around you, as if all the nerves in your skin had gone numb. Slowly your feet took a step forward as you crouched your body to get closer to his. You remembered all the times he bent down to meet your eyes in the same way. Would he pout and turn his face away from yours as you had done to him so many times before?

Of course there was no way he would.

"Hey, Marco... When you said it'd be okay, did you really believe it?" You asked, not even sure if your voice was audible. The ringing in your ears wouldn't have let you hear it anyways. "Was it something you said for the sake of others? Or did you truly believe it from the bottom of your heart? I can't tell anymore."

You reached your hand out and touched his cheek, rubbing your numb fingertips slowly across in hopes of being able to feel the soft skin beneath it.

"Hey! _! What're you doing? We finally get to go back for the day so hurry up! You wanna be back by dinner at least, don't you?" A faint voice could be just barely heard in the back of your mind but you weren't able to process the words.

"Hey, Marco... if I said 'I'm cold' like I before, would you still warm me up? Are you even able to now? I don't know if this cold I feel is yours or mine. I can't tell anymore."

Your body shook a little as you trailed your fingers across his body, tangling your weak fingers between his soft black hair like you had done so many times before. Even if you were completely numb it was a feeling you knew so well that it didn't matter. The shaking became a little more violent as you finally collapsed onto your knees, beside him as your tears had started to dry up.

"Hey, Marco...-"

"Oi! What the hell are you spacing out for? Listen when people talk to you!" The ringing stopped as your senses came back to you all at once. You looked up, realizing that the shaking had been a superior officer trying to get your attention as he screamed at you to hurry up. "Listen, kid. I don't know what this guy was to you but everyone has a lot of mourning to do. For now let's just get back, okay? We can't have anyone not accounted for."

He grabbed your arm and lifted you to your feet, patting your head with an ever so faint smile that stung with the knowledge of the truth of a cruel world. He waited for you to slowly nod your head in response before beginning to walk forward again. You stared at his back as he launched himself onto a rooftop where other soldiers seemed to be in conversation.

"Hey, Marco..." You took another look at his body, avoiding his face and the horrors it would bring. "What do I do from here on? I seriously just can't tell anymore."

* * *

I do not own Attack on Titan/Shingeki no Kyojin.


	2. Chapter One

You watched silently as the fire raged before you, so hot that if you got any closer the flesh on your face would probably start to burn. You saw the people around you gazing into that fire with an intensity that burned almost as harsh. The tears that fell down their cheeks only reflected one emotion: regret. And oh how clearly it could be seen.

'Hey, Marco... Which category do I fall into? I wonder what kind of face I'm making right now.'

It was hard to remember what kind of person you had been before this. Before had lost him, or before you had met him, or before you had joined the military in the first place.

'Is the me right now different than I was back then? The me that you knew? Hey, Marco... I seriously can't tell anymore.'

"Hey, guys..." A voice, firm and resolute and yet shaking with a weakness called knowledge cut through your thoughts, bringing all the eyes around him to focus.

"Have you decided what you're joining?" A pause. Uncertainty?

"I have."

A fist held before him as it shook, grasped tightly in the firm grip of his other.

"I... I... I'm joining the Survey Corps!" An expression that stung painfully clear as eyes shut tight and attempts to stifle his cries became increasingly futile.

'Ah...' You knew him. You remembered Marco and he spent lots of time together during your training. Marco's voice rang clearly in your head as you remembered when he spoke so fondly of the man who stood in tears before you.

_"Jean... I admire him. People have a certain opinion of him because of the way he acts and the things he says, but I know he has a good heart. He's a man who can overcome just about anything I think. He doesn't realize his own potential, but maybe that's another charm of his? He may not be the strongest physically or mentally, but he's got what counts. I admire him for the person he is, and the person I know he will be one day."_

'You always did like to see the best in people, huh? But I guess that was another charm of yours then. Without that trait, I doubt you would've approached me either so I should be thankful. Or maybe angry. Hey, Marco... would this pain go away if I had never met you?'

The fire became weaker as the night became darker and people slowly began to leave the area. You sat down in the same spot you had stood for so long, watching as small sparks danced above the fire and pieces of ash floated to the ground. A small, solid fragment of what you could only guess was someone's bone landed at your feet. The smell had begun to fade now, or perhaps you had just grown accustomed to it. The light seemed as if wasn't as blinding as it had been earlier and the flames, so hot that they could've burned, were replaced with a gentle warmth that seemed to envelope its surroundings.

You reached your hand forward, stopping it only centimeters above the piece that sat before you.

"I can't tell which bones are yours anymore." You spoke under your breath and you nudged the fragment farther away from you. "Was there ever any hope in this world, Marco?"

"I don't think he'd be happy to hear you talk like that, you know." A voice spoke from behind you. Without turning around you recognized who it was as it voice had echoed so loudly just a short time prior. More than that, you recognized that tone he spoke with. It was as if he knew the horrors of this world and yet forced himself to act like he didn't. You couldn't help but wonder for what purpose?

"Talk like what, exactly?" You responded, turning your head ever so slightly to peak at him as he made small, light footsteps closer towards you.

"Like you lost your faith. Marco wasn't the kind of guy who would be happy if the people he cared about gave up so easily. If you're scared you can quit now, but don't sit there with that look of self-pity." His footsteps came to a stop as he came up beside you, eyes fixated on the fires that became dimmer as the minutes past. The small light that they still gave reflected off of his face and he somehow didn't seem as frightened as he had earlier.

"I'm not scared. I wasn't the one crying my eyes out earlier while trying to feign strength. Please do not try to lecture me." You knew you were probably being a little too harsh on him but his words tugged on your memories ever so slightly and it was enough to make the blood begin to rush to your head. His eyes turned towards you and he slowly let out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of all the bodies in the fire before him. He hesitated for a moment before dropping down and taking a spot beside you on the floor.

"I'm not trying to feign strength. And I wasn't crying my eyes out, okay?" His reply seemed weak, as if he hadn't the energy to fight any more battles. As if he too, felt the despair that had taken root inside of you. But you knew there's no way he could understand how deep it was.

"Then what were you aiming for? It's not exactly inspiring at all when you see someone shake like that during your declaration. Doesn't seem like you had confidence in your decision at all, you know." Your eyes turned up towards the sky, searching for nothing in particular except for a place to rest your eyes upon.

"I wasn't trying to inspire anybody. As for my aim... I'm not sure. I guess I wanted to let the people I care about know what I felt- or something like that? I'd like to say I have the sort of confidence that idiot Eren would always spout, but that's not the case either. Marco used to tell me I'm not very strong. You're here for him too, aren't you?"

You didn't reply as you thought about the words he said. _'Marco used to tell me I'm not very strong.'_ What did he think of Marco? Was he happy that they had met; that they had become friends and that they had the opportunity to spend time together? Or was he as angry as you were? Did he feel the same emptiness as you did? Did Marco's words, his promises and assurances, hold any weight for him anymore?

"He would talk about you occasionally, you know?" Jean's words stopped your thoughts as you looked back at him, curious. Seemingly understanding you, he continued.

"We spent a lot of time together so I would notice little things, like the way he would scan every room we entered as if searching for something. Every time he found it he say, "Sorry, Jean, I'll catch up with you later!" before running off. It was a girl that he always made sure to greet. Why do you think that is?"

You looked at Jean as he spoke, latching desperately onto each word as if they were a part of Marco himself. You shook your head slightly, waiting for him to resume.

"I'm not sure either. I think it's the same reason why he would spend so much time with me, though. Other than Marco, I've never seen you with anyone. You don't have a lot of friends, do you?" His voice was soft and although his words were somewhat harsh, it was clear there were no ill intentions or malice in them. You brought your legs up to your chest and wrapped your arms around them.

"I- I have some friends." Your reply was feeble and you felt angry at yourself for sounding so weak. "I don't like being around a lot of people so I don't try to make any. Besides, if they're going to end up like Marco what's the point? I knew that even before I joined the military."

It was silent for a few moments so you lifted your eyes up to meet Jean's once again, only to be met with a look so filled with what you presumed was pity it made your blood begin to boil. But before you had a chance to say anything his eyes moved away from yours and he began to speak.

"It's an attitude like that that made him call out to you, I think. He's not the type of person that can leave people alone like that. He saw the good in everyone regardless of the people around us. He would say things like, "I think _ is more amazing than people realize" and "_ is strong even when she's by herself." That's why I said I don't think he'd like it if he heard you say things like that earlier." Jean's eyes once again met yours, except now they were gentle and seemed to reflect what almost looked like a small flicker of hope. The same hope that burned so bright within Marco's eyes. You stared at him for a few moments, taking in his words as they burned deeper within your heart with the memories they stirred.

'Hey, Marco... you're a really good judge of character, aren't you?'

"He would talk about you too, you know." Jean seemed taken aback for a moment at your sudden words but then relaxed quickly as his lips curved upwards ever so gently. "He said that he admired you. And that you had a good heart."

"A good heart, huh? He said the same thing about you a few times. I don't think there's anyone in our whole class who would've said that about either of us besides Marco, eh?" Jean let out a small breath of air which you interpreted as a small laugh as his eyes gazed towards the now completely dead flames.

"Hey, Jean..." Your voice was quieter now than it had been before as you rested your head upon the knees you held pressed up against your chest. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Jean return his gaze towards you. "What do you think about Marco?"

He titled his head slightly in confusion at your question. "What do you mean?"

"I mean the things he said. He was always telling me that it was okay to have hope, and that it was okay to dream. He would tell me that I shouldn't restrict myself from dreaming because there was no way that I _wouldn't_ live. That I should have faith in a future because I was alive, and that for as long as I lived I shouldn't ever let go of important things like hope." Tears began to blur your vision as they escaped down your cheek, faster and faster as your words continued as if they were the key to a lock. "Do you think he really meant any of that stuff? Was it really possible to believe that stuff in a world like this? I mean really believe, from the bottom of your heart and your whole soul. Do you think he believed like that? I don't know if the words he said were the truth or not anymore. I don't know if he even believed them anymore. Because it's impossible, right?"

"Hey, calm down for a second." Jean leaned in closer to you as you became more and more frantic.

"I mean, there's no way to believe in something like a future when we live in these walls. These walls are a symbol of the dreams we can't have. The dreams we are not _allowed_ to have. There's no way to have faith when everything around you is a constant reminder of this world's bitter reality. Do you think he knew that? Do you think he just acted strong for the sake of people like me? I'm weak, Jean. No matter what Marco thought he saw I know I'm weak. That's why he thought it was necessary to say those things to me, right? That's why he thought it was necessary to talk to someone like me at all, right? Marco was a good person and so he couldn't leave someone as pitiful as me alone, right?" You paused as Jean's palms crashed onto your shoulders, halting the words that seemed to spill out of your mouth as if they were the vomit you felt as you recalled the state in which you saw that once beautiful body last. You paused.

"Jean, do you think... Marco died thinking about those kinds of things? Do you think he still had faith even in his last moments? If he did... if he truly meant all those words he said and if he was able to hold onto that faith until his breath stopped... that'd be nice, wouldn't it?"

It was quiet all around you as the night had enveloped your surroundings, leaving Jean and you alone in the open area only a few minutes away from the place all of you had been calling home. Jean's eyes burned into yours as the tears began to slow down and your breath returned to your lungs.

"I know he believed it. Marco might've been stronger than both of combined, huh? I didn't realize it though." Jean paused, lifting a hand off of your shoulder and bringing it to your cheek to wipe away the tears that stained your face. "Everything he said to you, he meant. You know it too, right? Those eyes of his didn't lie. I don't know how he died but I can guarantee that he still held on until the end. You can tell that much as well, can't you? Because even if he's gone, he's with us. As long as we remember him, he's still with us."

You had stopped crying now and could see Jean's face clearly again as it was only inches away from yours, his eyes shaking with the memories of the man you both held so dear.

"I know I said I wasn't trying to be strong earlier... but that might've been a lie. I want to be strong. I want to be the person that Marco kept telling me I could be. I want to become the man he saw somewhere within me, even if I have to build him from scratch. I want to join the Survey Corps... despite the fact that I'm scared. I don't want to lose anyone else like Marco, but if I join the Military Police and sit comfortable like I had planned I don't think I could be content anymore. I'd feel like I was letting Marco down somehow, I guess. Maybe that's not it. Maybe I'm just angry. Maybe it's this burning inside of me. I don't know, and that's why I can't be confident. But if I don't try I feel like it's the same as losing my faith. I never really thought too much of the stuff Marco said myself either, but I guess somewhere deep down some of it stuck. I don't know what I want or what my dreams are yet... but somehow I don't feel like letting the opportunity to be able to dream pass me by. Or something like that, I guess." Jean gave a faint smile and let out a small, self-mocking chuckle before pulling you closer into a hug.

Who was he trying to make feel better, you or himself? You couldn't tell but you could've sworn you felt something warm drop onto your shoulder as he placed his head beside yours, the warmth from his face radiating onto yours as you lifted your hands and wrapped them around his body in response. You stayed together like that for a few minutes before he pulled away ever so gently, a faint color arising in his cheeks.

"I-It's getting really late and we need to go to sleep so let's head back, okay?" He stood up almost too abruptly and offered his hand towards you in assistance. You grabbed it as you got onto your feet, patting away any dirt that might've stuck. You smiled ever so faintly at him as if to get across the 'thank you' you couldn't quite put into words yet.

"Hey... If you ever need someone to talk to, you can come to me okay?"

"Same for you, Jean."


	3. Chapter One-Two

Just a quick note; this is just a small insert. Next Chapter will be up soon.

I probably could've just added this to the next chapter in retrospect...

* * *

"Knowing these discouraging facts, any still willing to risk their lives, remain here. Ask yourself... Are you willing to offer your beating heart for humanity?" The man on the stage who had introduced himself as Erwin Smith, commander of the Survey Corps, finished his speech with a small raise of his voice.

"That is all. Anyone who wishes to join another branch is dismissed."

The crowd was silent for a moment before heads began to turn and tiny murmurs started to spread. Feet started to move, step by step, carrying bodies farther and farther away from the stage where the man's voice had echoed. You looked around as more and more of the people around you turned to leave until your eyes landed on Jean, standing just a few meters away from you. His body shook ever so slightly and his face became pale as the space around him emptied faster and faster. His foot braced off to the side and for a moment, you honestly thought he would do a full 180 degree turn before rushing out of there with the rest of them.

But he didn't. He stood there, a look of self loathing so clearly plastered on his face. You watched for a few moments, almost forgetting the fact that you had a decision to make yourself as well.

If you wanted to leave, now was your last chance. If you didn't walk away now you would have to face them again. You'd lose people again. You'd end up like Marco, more likely than not. Somewhere inside of you, you knew you were scared.

But you didn't tremble. Your body didn't shake and your feet made no move to turn and leave.

Maybe you had stopped caring for your life after all that you'd experienced. Maybe you were just rushing towards your death on purpose. Maybe you were searching for a place to die.

Or maybe you were searching for a place to protect.

"Can you die if you're ordered to?" The man on the stage spoke again and you looked up from your feet, noticing how empty the area around you was again. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Jean as he straightened himself out once more, standing taller than he had before.

"I don't want to die!" A voice called out from somewhere amongst the soldiers left standing. You took a glance around once more and realized that the numbers, although nothing in comparison to others, were more than you expected. Had Jean been more inspiring to the others than you thought?

"I see." His lips curled upwards, "I like the looks on your faces. Then I welcome everyone here to the Survey Corps! This is a true salute! Offer up your hearts!"

You saluted along with the others, knowing that whatever the reason, this was the only path could take.

"This is the worst. The Survey Corps..." Jean's voice was so low you could barely hear him and yet it didn't tremble the way it had before.

"I'm scared! I want to go home..." A girl from your class, Sasha spoke. You looked around at the faces of the people in front of you.

If they're all so scared why didn't they leave? Was it Jean? Was it Eren? What could have been so inspiring that they stayed despite the fear routed inside of them from the events you knew they witnessed. For you had witnessed them as well.

'Is it them staying that's confusing? Or the fact that I didn't leave either?' You thought.

"You have done well to endure your fear. You are brave soldiers. You have my heartfelt respect."

* * *

I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan or it's characters.


	4. Chapter One-Three

Ah, another one.

I should say that I had originally planned on posting this as Chapter Two but decided it fit better as a part of one.

I think it goes well after 1.2. I also didn't feel it was quite long enough to stand on it's own as a full chapter.

I apologize for my indecisiveness.

This is the final part of Chapter One though since after this the story will move on to when they've joined the Survey Corps.

I've already written it so please expect to see it up soon.

Please enjoy this chapter as well.

* * *

You were settling down for the night as you finished your packing for tomorrow when there was a knock on your door. You placed the jacket you had just removed onto your bed and opened to the door to find none other than Jean standing there.

"Yo... Are you done packing?" He said, somewhat sheepishly. You nodded your head, opening the door farther to signal him in. You were half way back to your bed when you noticed Jean hadn't moved from his spot beyond the door frame, looking somewhat flustered as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"You can come in, you know? Why are you just standing there?" You turned towards him again as the color in his cheeks became a little darker.

"Ah... Yeah, right, sorry." He entered your room, his movements awkward as he shut the door behind him and made his way towards you. "Sorry, where you getting ready for bed?"

"Yeah, not that I'm much tried though so don't worry about it." You said, although in truth you hadn't been sleeping well for months now - and it had only gotten worse since Marco's death. You reached for your shoulder, about to unbuckle some of the straps around your body until you realized that it might make the boy in front of you feel uncomfortable. You stopped and took a seat on your bed, motioning to let him know it was okay to follow. "Was there something you needed to talk about?"

"Uhm... I guess. I had something I wanted to give you, actually." He pulled a book out from behind his back as he sat down beside you. "It belonged to Marco. He said it was his favorite from back home and so he always kept it on top of his bed side table. It felt wrong to leave it behind here while we left for the Survey Corps. I couldn't think of what else to do with it, honestly. Sorry, if that's weird..."

He placed the book on your lap and you felt something sting within you. Was he trying to make you feel better? Because it only hurt. You bit your lip as your throat clenched, silence engulfing the room.

"Ah, I guess it is weird? Sorry- I'm sorry. It's just... I honestly think he would be happy if you held onto it- or something like that. Sorry." Jean began to speak frantically at the tension that begun to form as you stared downwards at the book he placed before you. A tear slid down your cheek and onto the book, halting his movements completely. You hated yourself even more now for letting him see you like this. Why were you so weak? It made you feel like you were letting Marco down in some way. He had said you were strong but it was becoming more and more apparent how fragile you really were.

"Listen, I- I didn't mean to make you cry. I'm sorry, okay? I'll take it back, so don't cry, okay?" He lifted the book from before your eyes in a panic. Your self-hatred and weakness only made you cry harder at this, though.

"Please, I'll do anything, okay? Tomorrow we'll be official members of the Survey Corps, so you need to rest. That's why don't cry, okay? Just get some sleep!" Jean stood up from your bed abruptly, probably at a loss for what to do.

"Sorry, Jean. It's nothing. I'm beginning to see why Marco thought you were such a good person, now." You finally spoke; your voice trembled slightly as you tried to wipe the tears from your eyes. Jean was still for a moment as he watched you before bending down on his knees to see your face, reaching a hand out to place on top of the hand you used to rub at your eyes almost viciously.

"I'm sorry. I thought it would make you happy if you had something of his. I can't be that great if I made you cry like this, can I?" His voice was soft and it reminded you of all the times Marco comforted you in the same way.

"I just... it's not fair. Why did it have to be Marco? He was in the top ten, right? So he should be alive. He had dreams to fulfill unlike most of the other people here. I know he'd be mad at me for saying it but I wish someone else had died in his place. It's not fair, Jean." You tears started again and you couldn't help but let your feelings overflow.

"...Yeah, I get it. You're not a bad person for thinking that way and he wouldn't be mad at you. He was too understanding of a person to blame you. You're only human, so it's okay." He gripped your hand tighter as he spoke, "Hey, can I ask you a question? Why did you decide to join the Survey Corps?"

"...I don't know. Before I had a chance to move my feet it was already over."  
"Are you scared? Do you regret it?"

"...No. I think I'm probably scared, but I don't regret it."  
"You can still change your mind, you know. If you talk to someone now you can get out of it and live a peaceful life in the Garrison or something. Or even outside of the military altogether. No one will be mad, you know? Marco wouldn't mind either." Jean's voice was firm as he tried to reassure you, wiping the tears from your cheeks the same way as he had just a few nights before.

"I don't want to. This is the only way. I get it, Jean. But you don't have to worry for my sake. I'll become stronger." Your tears had stopped now and you realized something burning within you. "You said the other day that you wanted to become the man that Marco saw in you, right? I think I want the same thing. I don't want to be weak anymore. No- that might just be an excuse. More than anything, I want revenge, really. I want to become strong enough so that I can kill the Titans that have taken away so much from me. Marco said I was strong right? So I think I want to try to be, at the very least."

'And here I was saying that he couldn't inspire anybody,' you thought, chuckling slightly to yourself. You hadn't realized where the feeling had come from but before you knew it you had a goal. 'Dreams of a future might still be impossible, but "I don't feel like letting the opportunity to be able to dream pass me by," right?'

"I appreciate the gift, Jean. Marco was a really good judge of character, wasn't he?" You smiled ever so slightly, grabbing the book from him once again and holding it to your chest.

Jean was silent for a few moments as his eyes stayed locked onto yours before finally relaxing his shoulders and smiling ever so gently.

"Yeah, he seriously was."


	5. Chapter Two

A quick note before starting again:

I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been reading this and an even bigger thank you to the few of you who went out of your way to favorite and even review. Even if there's not a lot of you out there, it makes me incredibly happy to know that there are people out there that enjoy something I've created. It's a feeling I've never felt before and I can honestly say you guys are the best for that. So again, thank you so much for the kindness you've shown me and please be bothered to read this next instalment if you'd like! w

* * *

As the sun peaked into your window ever so slightly, you found yourself wide awake.

How many days had it been since you were able to shut your eyes? Lately every time you tried you would just end up tossing and turning the night away. Any brief moments of rest your body granted you were interrupted by nightmares that shook you awake within minutes. It was getting worse by the day and by now you could clearly feel the toll it had on every aching muscle in your body.

You got up to begin getting dressed, knowing you were early but also knowing that any further attempts in even a few minutes of a small slumber would just result in vain. You movements were sluggish as you had the time, but also you were doubtful you could push yourself to move faster even had you wanted to. You had gotten used to running on little to no sleep more often since joining the military but it had never been this bad before. Your taxing muscles burned with even the smallest movements and you were running solely on pure willpower. Your eyes were strained and yet they wouldn't stay closed.

What made the nights worse was the solitude that came with the darkness. As you tumbled back and forth in your sheets each night you were reminded of all the nights Marco had been your comfort. The nights he would sit beside you and hold your hand, speaking the words of reassurance you hadn't realized you needed so badly. He would be gone when you awoke in the morning but he'd leave behind traces of his presence, from the lingering warmth in your palms that tingled your fingertips at the memory or the little notes of papers showered with words of hope and consonance. You reread them during the nights, hoping they might carry some of the same power as his voice and yet they did nothing too ease your anxious mind.

Stepping out of your room, you quietly pulled the door shut behind you and dragged your feet towards the dining hall for a breakfast you weren't even sure was being served yet. You were lucky that there was no one else around this early for it would only take a glance at your movements to notice the difference from your usual self. You hoped, prayed almost, that getting some food inside you would provide you with at least enough energy to be able to fool the people around you so you could make it through another day of lectures, strategies, training- and worst of all, chores.

Slowly pushing open the door in front to the large room you slid your way in and took a glance around the room. It was empty, as it had been the day before and the day before that when you had gone through the same previous sequence of events. Relieved that you could continue your pace, you managed to grab yourself a cup of coffee to sip while you waited for meals to be served and sat at the closest table to rest your weary legs even the slightest. The bitter liquid warmed your body on the way down and you felt grateful, knowing it was enough to at least hold you for a short while.

You propped your elbows onto the table and buried your face into your arms, hoping that maybe closing your eyes for a while would lighten the weight you felt even if just slightly. You weren't sure if it was just that your perception was that far gone or not but it felt like hours upon hours before people finally started to pile into the big room, grabbing their meals as their voices boomed and felt like nails screeching on a chalkboard to your poor, over-sensitized ears. You lifted your head from the table and opened your eyes groggily, taking in your surroundings once again before raising yourself up to grab a meal and then sitting back down to eat.

Sitting back down in the same spot you had earlier, you noticed that there was now a girl sitting across the table. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail as she shoveled the food on her tray into her mouth at an alarming speed. You had rarely spoken more than a few simple greetings to most of your classmates and she was no exception, and yet at this moment she was staring straight at you with a look in her eyes you didn't quite recognize. Trying to ignore her intent gaze you began to eat the food before you, overjoyed as you could practically feel the much needed energy pile into your stomach.

"H-hey... you're _, right?" The girl spoke abruptly and you paused your meal to nod your head at her sudden question. "I was just wondering... if, maybe, I could have that?"

Ah. It was your food she was eyeing, you realized. You thought about it for a moment, following her finger to the half-stale bread that you had yet to touch. On one hand, even you had heard stories of the 104th trainees squad's Sasha Browse, who would do anything for even a small bite to eat; but on the other hand you knew you needed the bread more than she could probably even imagine.

'Which is the least troublesome? I'm hungry... but I don't want to deal with her whining if I say no...' You were thinking to yourself, weighing the options before you.

"Trying to steal someone's meal again, Sasha? Leave the poor girl alone." A voice cut in suddenly and you lifted your head to find Jean standing beside you, placing his tray down beside yours before suddenly pointing his finger towards the table behind Sasha. "Connie said he wasn't that hungry when we came in today so go take his instead."

The girl's eyes lit up as she nodded her head furiously before taking off in a sprint. Jean sighed loudly as he sat down beside you, shaking his head like a frustrated parent.

"Honestly, what a pain. What're you doing? Eat already." Jean's face flushed ever so slightly as you stared at him for a moment before you snapped back into reality.

"Ah, right." You mumbled before picking up the bread and beginning to munch down into it.

"Hey." Jean spoke again and you turned your attention to him once more; this time it was his turn to stare at you.

"What is it?" You swallowed the bite you had in your mouth before you spoke.

"No, nothing really. Are you feeling okay though? You sound a little croaky and you've got amazing bags under your eyes, you know. You're not getting sick, are you? Training a little too rough for you?" You had become more and more accustomed to Jean's way to speaking so you knew that even though he may have sounded sarcastic to others, he was genuinely concerned for your health. It was almost a little charming, in a way, how he could never get things across the right away.

"No, I'm fine. Just a little tired still, that's all. I'll feel better once I get some more food in me." You had never told anyone about your sleeping troubles besides Marco, who had forced it out of you with day after day of relentless questioning.

"Are you sure? If you're not feeling well you shouldn't push yourself. If you want to take the day off I'm sure-"

"I said I'm fine." You cut him off, not wanting him to press any further. Jean and you had grown a little closer lately but you still didn't feel comfortable relying on him fully. He was kind so you knew he'd want to help but it didn't seem right to force him to take care of you. In all honesty, you'd felt the same way with Marco at first but his persistence made you give in eventually. You tensed slightly at the memory, biting into the bread in your hand once again.

"Here." Another piece of bread was placed before you.

"What is it?" You looked at the bread and then trailed the arm that placed it there back to Jean's face once more.

"Bread, idiot." He turned his gaze away from you, resting his head into his palm in a rather childish way.

"No - I know that. Of course I know that. I'm asking why you're putting it on my plate."

"You said you'd get better with food. So you can have it." His face turned a light, yet incredibly endearing shade of pink as he turned his head a little further into his palm.

"Yeah. I did say that, huh? If you do stuff like this people will really start to think you're a nice guy, you know." You smiled despite yourself. It was because he did stuff like this that you found yourself hesitating. Even though you wanted to not to rely on him he made it seem so easy. Even though you wanted to keep a certain distance he was so inviting. Even though you wanted to not to smile so outwardly right now, his actions made it just so impossible.

"What're you talking about? I've always been a nice guy."

"Yeah, I know."


	6. Chapter Two-Two

A short addition. I had originally put this as a part of Chapter Two which is why I'm uploading them both. I really disliked the idea of using a time skip for separation so I try not to when possible, which is why I'm choosing to format this story in this particular way. I apologize profusely for my own silly preferences and I hope you are able to bear with it. I also hope you will enjoy this part.

* * *

You had managed to make it to lunch. The lectures that lasted all morning seemed to last days instead of hours but you managed to make it through them and all the way to lunch. You thought about taking a nap over and over again, as so many of the others around you had, but you didn't want to risk completely passing out no matter how strongly your eyes begged for it.. Regardless of the circumstances – even if just one person noticed, it could cause problems. You ate your lunch quickly, knowing you'd need every last bit of energy you could get for the task that was about to present itself before you: endurance training.

You made your way towards the field outside where some members had already started warming up. Usually you would join them; stretching and even jogging in place, but today your muscles ached just at the thought of it. You grimaced at the thought of having to run for hours, only being able to stop when the demon heichou himself said it was time.

"You haven't started your warm up yet, _?" Jean's voice spoke up behind you and you turned to face him, having to look up a fair deal towards his face.

"Yeah – I thought I'd skip it today. I just wanna get into the main event, you know?" You bluffed.

"My ass you do." A weak bluff apparently, since Jean managed to see through it immediately. "After sitting in lectures all morning you think you'd be okay just going into a run like that? And it's one of Levi Heichou's endurance runs at that. You need to warm up and you know it." His voice was firm as he stared down at you, as if checking for something.

"I'll be fine. My legs are already warmed up from jogging over here anyways."

"Liar. You dragged yourself over here as slowly as you've been dragging your body everywhere today. Hey, who exactly are you trying to fool here? It's already obvious there's something wrong with you. Go take the day off already." He took a step closer to you, bending his face down ever so slightly as he glared down at you.

"I said I'm fine already. How many times do I have to repeat myself? I knew you weren't the smartest but this just ridiculous. I'm fine, okay? F-i-n-e." You weren't about to back down, seeing through his hostile exterior as an obvious mask for his growing concern.

"Alright, line up already you damn brats." The loud voice belonged to the the man who just arrived, his presence was almost overwhelming despite his small stature. As one last glare was met with a growing look of anxiety, you lined up along with the rest of the frantic soldiers around you.

With a few soldiers in between you, Jean lined up as well. You could feel his eyes as he watched you. You knew you were acting like a kid, and you knew that he was concerned for you but you hated being so weak. Relying on others had never been something you did easily and it seemed it got even harder after losing Marco. Objectively speaking you knew you were being immature and an egoist. But sometimes it felt like your pride was the only thing you had left to hang on to in this world.

So you did. You held on to it for dear life and held it above all else. Above the genuine feelings of a kind-hearted man, and above the own feelings growing somewhere deep within you. Above the fear and weakness.

And so you ran. You ran as fast as your limbs would let you go, dashing off away from the gentle eyes that only offered aid.

'Hey Marco, where exactly did you see that "strength" in me? I'm nothing but a damn coward.'


	7. Chapter Two-Three

Very short addition to Chapter Two.

It's a bit of a cliff-hanger but it will not be a long wait until the next Chapter so please forgive me this time.

I hope you enjoy it and will continue reading a while longer.

* * *

You messed up. Badly.

If you didn't ache before, you sure as hell did now. You stood, curled over with your hands on your knees to help keep you balanced as you tried your hardest to fill your burning lungs with the air they so desperately needed.

"Here." A container of water was dropped in front of you. You lifted your head as much as you could to see Jean's broad shoulders in front of you. "We're gunna start up again soon, so drink it quickly. Seriously, if you're gunna end up panting like that you shouldn't have run off like that in the first place. Take it a bit slower, okay?"

You reached your hand down to grab the container but your limbs had a different plan. You collapsed onto your knees instead, still heaving as your fingers just barely managed to wrap themselves around the cork, desperate to get to the fluid inside. You couldn't have managed to thank him even if you had wanted to. Not that the thought even crossed your mind, with the way your head was pounding.

"Listen, I won't ask if you're okay or not anymore, but you know you're own limits. Seriously, even if you don't want it, just listen to me this time, okay? Otherwise you'll seriously end up not being able to move by the time we're done. Besides, we're working on endurance, not speed." Jean continued, his back still facing you.

'Ah. What's he going on about now?' You're vision was blurry as you lifted the container to your lips but somehow managing to miss completely. 'Ah... no more. I can't-'

Jean stopped as he heard a thud behind him, turning around to find you completely passed out on the grass behind him with water spilled down your uniform. His movements were frantic as he bent down beside you and placed a hand on your forehead.

"Hey, _! What're you doing? Ah! You're burning up! Oi! You can't be serious. What're you think you're doing, passing out in a place like this? _!" His voice was almost desperate and you could just barely make out his words somewhere in the back of your head.

"Why run in the first place if you have such a high fever? Can't you think about things for once? You'll just make people worry more this way than if you just skipped out. Man, you're hopeless! _!"

'Ah, that arrogant tone again.' You wanted to open your eyes to respond but his voice seemed to be getting farther away as you drifted deeper and deeper into the depths of sleep.


	8. Chapter Three

Your eyes fluttered open slowly and you blinked a few times, trying to adjust your eyes. A roof you didn't recognize.

You sat up, realizing you were in a bed that wasn't your own, but a sharp pain struck your head and forced you back down again. After a few minutes of somewhat laboured breaths you sat up again, looking around the room for clues as to your location.

'Ah, don't tell me I seriously ended up passing out?' You thought as you finally recognized the room as the small infirmary you had only just passed by on occasion.

"Ah, _! You're awake?" A voice called out to you from the entrance of the room and you turned to see a taller woman walking towards you with a smile. You recognized her as another superior officer of the Survey Corps, Hanji Zoe. "You might not remember but you passed out during some endurance training earlier. Man, I always tell that damn Levi he's too hard on you all! Sorry about him, _. It seems you've gotten a fever."

"I'm sorry for the inconvience." You bowed your head slightly, not knowing how to act around someone so easily excitable. It's not that you didn't like her or anything, but she was _always_ so cheerful and loud that you just kept your distance. Your personalities just didn't match up, that's all.

"Oh c'mon, don't give me that formal stuff! I mean, we're already this close, right?" Her smile grew brighter as she stood beside the bed you laid on, dipping a cloth in the bucket of water you just noticed sitting on the table. She rung it out and then turned towards you, gently lowering you onto your back and placing the cloth onto your forehead. "I mean, I even took care of you all this time! I changed your clothes and washed away all the sweat, too! Aren't I nice?"

"Y-you undressed me?" You tried to sit up again but her hands on your shoulders kept you in place.

"And redressed you." Her smile was really starting to creep you out now.

"Ah, I got it. Thank you for taking care of me, it must have been hard. Again, I apologize for the inconvience." You replied, sighing to yourself and regaining your composure. There was no point in getting worked up over something you couldn't change.

"Ah, you went right back! Not fair! Well, it's okay I guess. Besides, I had plenty of help. That kid, what's his name again? Oh right, Jean! He carried you here for us. He seemed really worried, y'know?" Her eyes had a glint in them as if searching for your reaction.

"What about the run?" You weren't going to give her one, though.

"Ah, he went back afterwards. I'm sure he caught up just fine, if you were worried."

"Not particularly."

"..."

"..."

"Ah~! Well, that's okay. So, how are you feeling now? Pretty groggy, I'm guessing? Your fever was incredibly high, you know! Do you know how you got it?" She smiled again as she sat down on the bed beside you, although this time it didn't make you feel as uncomfortable as it had earlier.

"I have a killer headache." You resigned yourself a little, knowing that acting tough wouldn't help anyone at this point.

"I figured as much; I'll go grab you something for that in a minute. And the rest of your body?"

"Tired."

"Hmm. I guess that makes sense. Well, rest a bit more, okay? Everyone should be out for the day by now anyways so you don't have to worry about chores or anything. I'll make sure to tell that Levi of ours to be a little gentler from now on as well. Just take it easy for a bit and close your eyes. I'll send someone a little later with something to help with the pain and a bite to eat, okay? I bet your hungry by now."

You nodded and she got up, walking out of the room as she hummed loudly to herself. Yeah, she just wasn't someone you could keep up with.

You sighed again, trying turning over onto your side only to be halted abruptly by your screaming muscles. You muttered a curse under your breath as you realized that Jean was right when he said you wouldn't be able to move.

"Oh, what? You're already awake, _?" Your eyes shot towards the door at the sound the voice of the man you were just thinking of. _Speak of the devil..._

"Well I guess you did sleep for about eight hours already. How're you feeling?" He placed a hand on your cheek as he sat on the bed you laid on. "Ah, you're still pretty hot. How'd you manage to get such a bad fever in the first place?"

"I'll be fine after some rest."

"You're avoiding the question." Jean removed his hand and placed it on the other side of your head. "Seriously, what's with that "I'm fine", "I'm fine", anyways? You're obviously not. Who are you trying to impress with that attitude?"

"I'm not trying to impress anyone. I mean it. It's just a fever."

"It's not _just_ a fever. There's no way you'd get so sick under normal circumstances, right? I've never felt someone burning up like that before in my life." His eyes were sharp as he stared down at you. "Why can't you just be a little more honest? No one will mind if you depend on them a little. No one will think you're weak or anything, so just say something."

There it was – that overconfident attitude that shook something deep inside of you that you hadn't realized existed. Where'd it come from, anyways? Why was he so firm when he spoke like that, anyways? Where did he get the damn confidence?

"Fine. I get it. I didn't realize it would end up like this, okay? Otherwise I would have sat out from the start." Your reply was just above a mutter and it would obvious you were pouting.

"Hah? What's with that attitude towards the guy who carried you all the way here? Where the hell is my thank you, idiot?" He sat up straight as he reached for the cloth on your head, probably checking the temperature. Despite the things he was saying he was still trying to look out for you in his own way.

"I didn't ask you too."

"Seriously? Don't give me that shit."

"... Sorry. I must've been heavy, huh?" You turned your face towards the wall but you could hear the smile in Jean's voice when he spoke.

"No, not at all. You're welcome. Why not rely on me a little more from now on? For starters, you can tell me how you managed to destroy your health this badly."

"Maybe I ate something bad?" Marco would probably have hit you for being this evasive.

"That's obviously not the case. Say, am I really that untrustworthy? I thought I was starting to get a little stronger now a days." You turned your head to look at him once again as his words seemed to have a hint of loneliness laced within them.

"You are. You beat me the other day, didn't you? In the race we did for training. Even I was impressed." You didn't know when you started to notice so many things about Jean. It seemed to happen almost naturally, and without you realizing it you had become closer to him than you had ever imagined you would be.

"You're easy enough to beat. I beat that damn Yeager today, though. He looked ready to bite my whole head off." Jean let out a small laugh as he boasted, obviously happy with himself.

"Yeah, I can imagine that. You must've worked hard." You smiled to yourself as you imagined it.

"N-not particularly." A faint color reached Jean's cheeks as his hands began to fidget as if looking for something to do. "Besides that, are you hungry at all? They're still serving dinner so I can grab you something if you like."

"I'm okay. I think Squad Leader Hanji said something about bringing me some food anyways."

"Ah, her! She's a little weird, don't you think? She kept giving me this weird look when I was carrying you in here." Jean was speaking normally and you started to realize that it had had become a natural occurrence for you and him to just talk like this.

"She's eccentric, that's for sure." You smiled in response. Even though before you had always kept to yourself before, now you somehow found yourself speaking about nothing in particular and even laughing with Jean.

"Well, she's good at her job. I'll give her that. Apparently she's pretty good with the whole medical stuff from what I hear. What'd she say about your fever, anyways?" You could tell that Jean was still worried.

"Oh, right. She said that I just need some more rest and that she'd bring me some medicine to help with the pain."

"Pain? Are you hurt somewhere?" Jean leaned in a bit closer to you as if he wanted to check for himself.

"No, just a headache and some sore muscles. You were right when you said I wouldn't be able to move, huh? I guess I overexerted myself a little." You smiled in an attempt to reassure him.

"Is that all?" He asked, skeptical. You nodded in response and he sat up straight again.

"Then, you'll be okay?" You nodded. He paused for a moment, staring at you before speaking again.

"Hey, it's seriously okay if you rely on me some more, you know? In fact it'd be better if you did. So come to me next time, okay? Even if you are 'fine'. I think I'm at least strong enough for that, you know? I don't really mind carrying you every once and a while." It was times like this when it was hard not to believe his words. Everything he said sounded so strong and firm that it was impossible he could be lying.

"Yeah, I got it." You couldn't help but smile.

"Besides, it's more of a bother if you just pass out like that."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'll be relying on you every once and a while, then. You don't have to carry me, though, so don't worry." You repeated his words back to him knowing the exact reaction it would bring – that wonderful light color in his cheeks that illuminated him so well. When did you start wanting to see that?

"I-Idiot. I didn't necessarily mean literally carry you, okay? Just that I can shoulder some of your burdens as well – or something like that. Damn, you're annoying even when you're sick, aren't you?" Even though you tried to hold it in a small gasp of laughter escaped your lips as they parted into a smile. Quickly and awkwardly – an awkwardness that you had realized came and went with Jean's personality – he rose from the bed, facing away from you.

"From what I hear you're supposed to comfort the sick, not insult them. Your attitude is the worst, you know." You teased him back lightheartedly.

"Yeah, yeah, we all get it. But at least I'm honest. Seriously, how can someone your age be so childishly evasive? You should just say you're happy when you're happy – or say you're not when you're not. I'll listen, okay? So talk about the things you want to. Say anything you want to say." Jean turned his head to look at you as he spoke; his eyes locking on to yours spoke volumes about the weight of his words. You had seen that look before and recognized the pure sincerity that resonated within it and you felt a small pounding somewhere deep within you.

"Hey, I told you I'd get stronger, right? I promise that I will. I'm not an unrealistic psychopath so I won't say something like 'I want to be strong enough to kill every single titan' or something that damn Yeager would say. But I promise that I'll be strong enough so that I can protect the things dear to me. I'll at least be able to do that much, right?" He paused and turned his eyes away from you, gazing aimlessly up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, you can. You're stronger already, Jean. I think I might understand what it was that Marco saw in you, honestly." The last of your words escaped your mouth without you even realizing it. You didn't know when these feelings had come to you but you knew that you felt something stir inside of you at the sight of Jean before you. Friendship. Respect. Admiration. Envy. Companionship. Appreciation. Love. Were any of those the words to describe it? Maybe they all were. You didn't know anymore.

"Then let me make another promise to you. I promise to listen. Everything and anything you want to say – come to me. I'll listen, I swear. " His eyes met your again and you found yourself wanting to let yourself believe his words – that the man before you truly cared for you and worried for your sake. That he could become someone with whom you could share your burdens. You wanted to let yourself believe more than you had even realized you had at first. It was as if he was prying off one finger at a time from that death grip you used to hold onto your pride with. How? Who gave him the right to in the first place? It scared you and yet there was something so comforting about his eyes. As if instead of letting you fall once all your fingers all lost hold, he'd be there to pull you up into something completely different. That once he'd finished prying your fingers away he wouldn't let go and finish there; his own fingers would intertwine with yours and you'd have something new to hold on to. Where did that damn confidence come from? You're blood was rushing to your head again and you could hear an annoying ringing in your ears to match the throbbing of your temples. Anger? Fear? Hope? You didn't know anymore.

"I'll become strong enough so that not even you will be able to doubt me." His voice was firm as his back faced you once more. He took a step towards the door, his feed moving quickly but quietly before pausing after only a small distance. "So when that time comes, I'll carry you. Burdens and body and all."

"I'm heavy." Your body felt like a weight under all of your worries.

"You're light. Much lighter than you think."

* * *

"Where will you carry me to, then? How far?"

"Towards your dreams. As far as the future goes on."


	9. Chapter Three-Two

You woke up the next morning as the sun just barely shined through the window. It took you a few seconds to realize that you were still in the infirmary, having spent the night there. Soon after Jean had left someone came by to dropped off a meal and medicine for you which allowed you to sleep easier than normal.

'When was the last time I slept like that?' You wondered. Perhaps it was thanks to the medicine or perhaps it was that you had finally worn yourself out but you had managed to sleep more peacefully than you had in a long time. No tossing and turning, no waking up throughout the night every five minutes and none of the nightmares that plagued your tired mind. You smiled to yourself slightly before getting yourself out of bed and ready for the day.

You were still earlier than most of the other people in the building but there was a few soldiers eating breakfast already when you arrived. You felt refreshed as you grabbed yourself a meal and sat down at a random table.

'Ah, my eyes aren't burning and there's no ringing in my ears. I can't remember the last time I felt this good.' You smiled as you lifted a spoon to your mouth and begun your meal happily.

"What the hell are you looking so damn pleased about?" Harsh words mixed with a gentle tone reached your ears as a larger body propped itself down beside you.

"How do you manage that, Jean?" You inquired.

"Manage what?" He questioned right back at you.

"To look so damn annoyed and yet relieved at the same time. You were really worried about me, huh?" You smiled ever so slightly as Jean's eyes widened slightly.

"Huh? Where'd you get that from? I think you're still sick, idiot." A wonderful shade of pink reached his cheeks as once again put his head into his palm. A small quirk of his, you began to notice.

"No I'm seriously fine now. I haven't felt this good in ages." You smiled openly, somewhat unlike yourself – but you couldn't help it with the way you felt right now. Jean's eyes glanced at you for a second before turning away again. "By the way Jean, you're early today aren't you?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah I guess. I happened to wake up a little earlier so I thought I'd get breakfast while it was still quiet." Jean's hand reached towards your forehead casually as if it was a natural thing to do. "Oh you weren't lying this time – it really does feel like a normal temperature now."

You pushed his hand away gently, "What's that mean? Of course I wasn't lying."

"Who knows with someone like you. I had to make sure for myself otherwise I wouldn't believe it." His voice had that same condescending tone as usual as turned back towards his meal. "By the way, you're usually here pretty early right? I always see you whenever I get here. Are you one of those people who think mornings are the best or something?"

"What the hell is that? You make it sound like some creepy hobby. I'm not a morning person, if that's what you mean. I actually hate them." _Shit._ You froze for a second as you realized what you just said.

"Lately I've been getting up early though. Since we came here I figured I'd be a little more proper, you know? I figured it'd be better to be more prepared or something like that, instead." You quickly tried to regain your composure.

Had it worked? Were you able to successfully convince him? Did it sound like an excuse?

"That sounds like an excuse, you know." Jean's face was forward but his eyes were burning into you.

_Damn it. Shit. What the hell? How dumb can I get?_ You were shocked at yourself for making such a small slip up. Why would you say something that so obviously contradicts your behaviour? Of course it would raise a flag. Had you really grown so comfortable with Jean that you didn't even think about the things you said anymore? Your mind was racing as you mentally punched yourself in the face repeatedly. Usually you would have lied and said you liked mornings so that you wouldn't arose any suspicions. How could you make such a simple mistake? Why did the truth just slip out like that?

"Oi, what the hell is that face? You look like you wanna run away all of a sudden." Jean's voice was strict as his entire body faced you now.

"I don't know what you mean. Why would I run away? It's not like you're scary or anything. I could always take you in a fight." You tried to distract him.

"Are you kidding? I'd destroy you day or night. There's no way someone who passes out after a run could beat me with anything." You were thankful that Jean had as big of an ego as you did.

"Hey, Jean! _!" A voice cut in and you both turned to see Hanji walking towards you, grinning and waving. You'd never been so thankful to another person before. She approached the table stood before you both.

"I see you were able to find her, Jean. I have to say even I was surprised when I went in to check on you this morning and you weren't there, _!" She placed a hand on your forehead just as Jean had done earlier. "You feel much better now and it looks like you had a good rest so you should be okay. Still, don't push yourself too much okay? Although I think you're strong so you'll probably be okay. But still, you shouldn't just leave like that, you know! I was so worried, and then when Jean came in to check on you I—"

"You came to check on me, Jean?" You turned your head towards the burning red-faced boy beside you as he suddenly found the other side of the bench you two sat at very interesting.

"Ah, he didn't tell you? Was it a secret? Sorry, Jean!"She apologized, looking worried and sincere but Jean didn't give any sort of acknowledgement that he'd even heard it.

"Ah, but it's not a bad thing right? It's a good thing to care about others. So it's okay! Anyways, _, be careful for a few days and if you need to get away for our Levi you can always come find me, okay? I'll be glad you shelter you. See you both around!" Hanji smiled brightly as she turned back towards the way she came, waving again as she left you and Jean alone again.

You stared at him again; only able to see the back of his head as he hid his face in his hands and faced the opposite direction from you. It was silent as you waited for a response from him that didn't seem to be coming any time soon.

"Jean?" You spoke again, not entirely sure what answer you were looking for.

"I-It's not like that, okay? I happened to be up and so I thought I'd check on you since I had the time. Don't get all cocky and think I woke up especially to see you, or something." Never in your life had you found something as cute as you did in the moment you saw the color from Jean's cheeks overflowed into his ears, turning them a beautiful light pink. His habit of burying his face into his palm reminded you of a small animal and suddenly you couldn't help but smile to yourself at the thought. You didn't realize at the moment how warm you felt inside but later it would surely make your heart pound at the memory. When you didn't say anything for a few moments Jean's eyes, slowly and nervously, peaked back at you.

But his eyes caught a glimpse of that small smile you were trying so hard to hold back – and that tiny, ever so faint pink that seemed to bring your whole face to life – locking his eyes into place.

"Hey, Jean..." Your voice snapped him back into reality and he quickly averted his gaze, focusing instead on the plate in front of him.

"What is it?" He asked, lifting the glass of water towards his lips as an attempted distraction.

"...Nothing important. Here." As he lifted his head back to take a big sip of the clear liquid you placed something on in front of him. Putting down his glass back on the table he looked again at his tray.

"...And what's this?" He asked.

"Bread, idiot." You mocked his words from the day before but the gentle tone that came from your mouth wasn't the least bit condescending.

"An idiot shouldn't call someone else an idiot. I meant what's the purpose of this? I'm not sick or anything." The awkwardness had passed and he was now back to his usual self as he stared back at you, waiting for an explanation. You let out a small, stifled laugh that surprised even yourself. Somehow every conversation with him managed to relax you and you were taken aback by how comfortable you felt in these situations, regardless of any previous worries or discomforts that may have clouded your mind.

"I figured you'd need it if you want to beat me like you said earlier. We have sparring practice today, don't we?" You stated quite simply.

"Like this will make a difference. I don't need something like this to beat you anyways." Jean said, but still took a bite of the bread anyways. You smiled at no one in particular as you began to finish off the last of your now almost cold meal before you.

"When I win I'll repay the favor and carry you to the infirmary." You downed the last of the liquid on the table in front of you before lifting yourself onto your feet, holding an open palm out to Jean. He looked at it for a moment before gripping it with his own, letting you pull him to his feet.

"Careful. Someone might misinterpret that as some backwards form of your thanks."

"What're you talking about? That's the damn point so you should appreciate it."

"Yeah, I do."


	10. Chapter Four

A small knock lightly resounded through the room, so quiet that you had almost thought you had misheard. You paused at your position at the small desk in the corner of your room listening for any signs of life on the other side of the thin wooden door that separated your small room from the long corridors. It was quiet for moment until you heard it again – that same tiny, easily mistakable knock. You turned off the small desk lamp off before rising from your chair and making your way towards the door, flicking on the main light on the way.

"Jean?" You opened the door to see the taller man standing there, his eyes widening for a moment when you appeared before him as if he hadn't expected you in the slightest.

"Oh, hey, _. Were you sleeping?" He asked quietly. You realized he hadn't wanted to wake you.

"Oh. That explains that pathetic excuse for a knock. Don't worry, I wasn't sleeping. Come in." You pushed the door open fully as you turned around, trying to stop the tiny smile that had crept into your features at the realization.

"Oi, that's rude. I was being considerate." Jean's voice was a regular volume now as he shut the door behind him. You grabbed the chair you had just been sitting on, placing it beside the bed and taking a seat, motioning Jean towards the bed. He took a seat, albeit awkwardly, and you realized once again that he wasn't really the most socially inept person in the world either. But that was okay too.

"So what's up?" You asked somewhat impatiently. It was obvious he was nervous being in a girl's dorm at near midnight but his habit of just sitting there averting his eyes got on your nerves sometimes.

"Ah, right. Nothing really important so stop giving me that dumb look." It was easy enough to push his buttons a little though, so it didn't take long for him to start speaking in his usual brash tone. "Just checking in I guess. I wasn't tired at all so I thought I'd kill some time. Do you mind?"

"No that's fine, I was up reading anyways. Are you having trouble sleeping?" You asked, pulling the reading glasses you had forgotten you were wearing off your face. Although you kept a small desk light on beside you, reading the in the dark still strained your eyes enough that you were cautious. You rubbed your eyes lightly and folded the glasses up, throwing them lightly on the bed.

"Nah it's nothing like that. Beating you was so easy during practice today that I didn't burn as much energy as usual I guess." Jean reached over to the glasses that landed beside your pillow, unfolding them and inspecting them from different angles. "Reading glasses?"

"Oh I see. You just came here to brag some more didn't you?" You ignored his question and leaned forward in your chair with a small glare. Jean lifted his eyes to meet yours, a small smirk played across his thin lips.

"Don't try to put me on your level. I'm not an idiot so I wouldn't be so happy over something that small." He put the glasses he held in his hand on his face, taking a quick glance around the room with that same damn grin plastered all over his face. You glared at him as his eyes finally stopped and met yours, his lips pulling upwards farther to reveal a small portion of his straight white teeth. He placed his finger between your furrowed brows and nudged. "You're gunna give yourself wrinkles, you know."

"It's obvious you're happy with that shitty grin on your face. Just because you put on glasses doesn't change the fact that by your own definition you're an idiot." You swatted his hand away from your face and pulled back, sitting up straight once again. Although, if you were being honest with yourself, they did actually suit him more than you would have guessed.

"You didn't answer my question so I had to check for myself." He pushed the glasses up as if he was accustomed to wearing them as he stood up and walked towards the desk. "What were you reading?"

You let him reach the desk without an answer, his eyes landing on a book laid spread open on the desk – you didn't have a bookmark so you just left it open to keep your page. It was the book he had given you before your arrival here. The book that had belonged to the only real mutual factor you had between you both.

Suddenly a realization hit you as you faintly heard Jean's murmured breath. Without Marco, would you have ever met Jean? You weren't sure exactly if Jean considered you both friends or not but besides Marco, Jean was the only person who you made regular conversation with within your own classmates and comrades.

Even when Marco wasn't with you anymore it seemed like he was trying to help you.

And it stung. It felt like you had ingested a rose bush and the thorns were imbedding themselves into your skin from the inside. They must have gotten really stuck on the way down or something because somehow it felt incredibly strenuous to swallow. It was probably due to the fact that you had been reading his book and thinking about him beforehand but suddenly it felt like the still-healing wounds had never began to heal at all.

_"Hey, I swear to you, okay? I promise you – so believe me. You'll never be alone. No matter what happens – you will never be alone."_

"Do you think we would have met if it wasn't for Marco?" Jean's voice filled the otherwise quiet room once more and you snapped your head up, trying to shake away the memories along with the sudden stinging you felt behind your eyes. Jean's back was facing you as he placed a hand on top of the book, tracing the writing as if they were something more than just flat words on a paper.

"I mean we never talked before, right? Even though I knew who you were I don't think we ever said anything more than a simple passing greeting or something whenever Marco would switch out between us. Isn't that weird to think about?" Jean's voice was soft and much quieter than he had been earlier. Was he also in the same pain? Did the memories haunt him like they did you?

There's no way something like that could be true.

"Hm." You gave a small hum of acknowledgement. In honesty though, it was probably all you would've been able to manage with the way your throat seemed to have clenched up.

"I bet he wouldn't have guessed we'd be friends now." Jean mumbled as his hand left the words in the book and reached for the glasses still placed on his face. He slid them off gracefully and set them on the desk top before continuing, "Or maybe he could've? I hate to admit it but I guess you and I have some stuff in common personality wise. Maybe he saw that?"

It seemed like he was hardly talking to you anymore and rather just muttering his thoughts out loud. You took a deep breath, rubbing your fingers along your throat as if the problem was a physical one instead of emotional. You closed your eyes as you let the breath escape your lips, successfully ridding yourself of that damn annoying stinging. You were going to be stronger, remember? When you're strong you don't cry.

Especially not in front of others.

"Hey, _. It's okay if you hit me for asking but are you okay?" Jean's voice regained its volume once more as he turned now to face you. Had he seen you? Had you made him have to worry yet again?

"What are you talking about? I'm fine." You're reply was quieter than you would have liked but it was good enough. It sounded firm, right? You didn't stutter, right?

"Yeah I know that. Shut up with that already. I meant with everything – like Marco's death. You sure you're not up crying yourself to sleep at night or something like that?" Jean's words stung more than you would've liked in your state. Normally they'd just be another batch of his usual backwards tone lacing his genuine concern but right now they felt like lead traveling through you.

It was too damn heavy.

Did he think you were that pathetic? Did you come across as that weak?

"Shut up – like hell I would do something like that. I don't need your pity, Jean." You were lashing out – you knew you were. Your words were harsh and your tone even worse than it had been on that first night.

"Who said anything about pity? It's called being worried dumbass. It's what friends do." Jean made his way towards you as you glared up at him.

"I don't need it. It's annoying." It felt like time came to a stop as you and Jean shot daggers with your eyes at each other, neither of you saying a thing. Suddenly, though, Jean's eyes closed and he let out a sigh as loud as he had when he first approached you.

"You know, you're personality is really bad. I take back what I said about us having stuff in common personality wise – you're a damn nightmare. Where does that attitude come from, anyways? Were you always like this? Even with Marco? How the hell did a nice guy like that put up with it I wonder?" Jean's tone was light and he probably wasn't trying to attack you in a malicious way – you knew that, you really did – but the blood had already started to boil within you and headed straight for your big, stupid head.

"Shut the hell up, Jean. You don't know a damn thing about Marco's and my relationship so don't act like you do or I'll rip your fucking shitty tongue right out." You finally stood up from the seat you had taken when he first arrived, stepping closer to the tall boy as your body became more and more tense.

"Hah? You couldn't even beat me in practice today and you're threatening me? That's some confidence you got there. Care to prove it then?" Jean reacted to your threats in the exact way he always did, half way between serious and joking. He placed his hands on his hips and leaned his face forward – still looking down on you – as if to mock your height.

If it was another normal day, his words wouldn't have held so much weight. You would've been able to see through his aggressive exterior to the true meaning behind his backwards speech just like usual. Why did it hurt so much all of a sudden? It felt like he was somehow looking down on you and that made it so much worse. On top of the still-fresh wounds of Marco's death were new worries you hadn't noticed begin to pile up. Or maybe you had noticed but just pushed the realization away so you could safely run away again? Your head seemed to be becoming more of a mess lately and the confusion just added to your ever-growing list of worries. All you knew for sure right now was how hot your blood felt in every inch of your body.

"I swear to fuck Jean I'm going to put you in the damn infirmary." You grabbed his collar and yanked him down further so that your faces were only inches apart and the glaring match began anew – this time at a proximity that would've normally been out of the question for you both. It went on for minutes upon minutes as you waited for his smart-ass reply so you could give him the well-deserved punch in the face he was asking for.

But it never came. Time seemed to drag on until finally Jean let out another sigh the same as he had done just minutes prior – this time you could feel the warm breath trickle along your already burning skin. His shoulders relaxed as he closed his eyes for a moment before reopening them to meet yours with a gaze you couldn't quite read. Your eyes shifted away while you followed his right hand as he lifted it and placed it on top of the fist you had his collar bunched up in, although he didn't make an attempt to remove it.

And then suddenly, catching you off-guard, something hit your forehead.

You turned your gaze once more to find Jean's face a mere few centimeters away from yours now as his forehead rested against yours and his eyes closed calmly.

"Will you carry me there when you're done like you said you would?" His words were quiet again as his voice became more of a relaxing whisper. "Although truth be told you're the one who's burning up again. Careful, or you'll get yourself sick working too hard."

"I'm not sick." You're reply was just as low as your head raced for a different reason that it had been a few minutes prior.

"Sorry. Did I make you mad? I didn't mean to. I tend to just say whatever comes to the top of my head without really thinking about it too much. It's like a bad habit. Sometimes I say stupid things but I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Jean's words were wrapped with sincerity so strong that you could've sworn you felt it as his breath hit your skin with each word.

"You don't understand anything. You can't say things like that." That irritating stinging returned to the back of your eyes and you were quick to crash your eyelids closed.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. There's no way Marco thought anything like that. You said I don't know anything about your relationship but the way he talked about you was enough to know. I shouldn't have said anything like that. I was wrong." You felt Jean's other hand find it's place on the top of your head as you loosened your fingers from his collar, letting the hand he had placed on top of them to take the place of the now severely wrinkled shirt.

"... And you?" You're voice was still low and your eyes stayed shut out of the fear that you would cry again any second now. "Do you think less of me? I know I have a bad personality so it would make sense. Do you think I'm weak?"

"Like hell I would. I said it earlier but I'll say it again. I'm your friend so I worry about you but that doesn't mean I pity you or anything. That doesn't mean I think you're weak. You might have a bad personality but I'm in the same boat, right? After all, I made you cry again."

"I'm not crying." You snapped your eyes open as if to disprove his words and you were met with Jean's warm eyes looking gently back at you.

"Yeah, you're right." He smiled at you, finally pulling his forehead off of yours and placing a natural distance between your faces'.

"I won't cry anymore. I'm going to become strong so I can't cry anymore. I don't want to." You hoped that your words came across with weight despite the fact that your eyes so obviously trembled.

"Crying doesn't make you weak, you know. Besides, isn't that what shoulders are for? To let people cry on – o-or something like that... I'll let you. If you can't hold it in you can cry on my shoulder whenever you need to. I won't say you're weak because of it." Jean's hand squeezed yours ever so lightly as if to provide some sort of reassurance.

"You make it sound like it's bound to happen or something even though I said I didn't want to." You pushed away the hand that still rested on your head so that you could turn your face.

"Of course it is. Everyone needs an outlet every once and a while, right? Because we're human. Everyone has their own weight to carry. Sometimes it can wear you out and you need help carrying it. That isn't a bad thing, you know. I said I'd help you carry it, didn't I? So this much is fine." Jean took a step to stand in front of your face again in a childish way of getting you to feel the credence of his words. As if the warmth his palm provided wasn't enough to get your full attention.

You let out a small sigh before smiling ever so slightly to yourself, meeting his eyes once again. How hopeless could you get? No matter how you felt in the minutes prior, Jean had a way with words that made you give in. The worst part about it was that you were so used to it by now that it felt like a natural response. You weren't even mad at yourself for believing in him this time. At least, not for the moment. You found yourself wishing for it to last, even.

"You don't give up, huh? But I guess that's a good trait of yours. Hey, Jean, we're friends right?" You waited for his nod before continuing, "Then it's a two-way street. I'll let you carry some of my weight but in return I'll carry yours too, okay?"

"Of course you will, idiot. That's how it works. I'll be relying on you when I need it so you better do the same, got it?" Jean's hand finally loosened its grasp on yours as he let go and took a seat on the chair you had placed beside the bed. There wasn't a breeze and yet suddenly your hand felt cold compared to the rest of your body, as if Jean had been the one providing body heat for it instead. "You can start by taking a seat right there and telling me what's up with you already. I know you say you're fine but it's obvious that's not the case so just spill now."

Jean's forceful gaze reminded you of when Marco had made you to talk in a similar manner. Did Jean pick up on his tricks somehow? He must have, considering the way he had been able to dictate your emotions so easily with just his words.

"I have trouble sleeping." You stated simply, finally giving in and taking a seat on the bed before Jean.

"Like you have nightmares or something?" Jean asked.

"Sometimes. But most of the time I just can't sleep for no real reason. I end up tossing and turning for hours and then realize it's already morning. Or I'll fall asleep only to wake up minutes later – wide awake again. It used to work out in a way that I'd tire myself out eventually and be able to get a proper rest but lately its worse I guess. That's why I ended up getting sick the other day. I must've been awake for days by that point. I can't tell you how much my eyes were burning."

"How long has it been going on?" Jean asked slightly as you leaned backwards on your hands, staring up at the ceiling.

"A long time. I've never liked the night so as kid I had trouble sleeping."

"So you're scared of the dark?" Jean was only half teasing.

"No, not anymore. I actually like the nights now since I've gotten used to it, honestly. It's calming and we know the Titan's aren't as active which is another comfort. It's just my body that don't listen. No matter how much I want to sleep, it doesn't come."

"But it's never been this bad before, right? I mean I know we weren't close but I don't really remember you ever passing out like that before this."

"I-It's gotten worse since Marco's death, I guess." You were starting to regret opening your mouth at all when you realized how pathetic this whole thing must have sounded. If Jean meant what he said he wouldn't think less of you but it still felt like part of your pride was losing. As quiet enveloped the room you found yourself wishing that you could leave the room and stop the conversation as it was now.

"Ah, so I was right then. Maybe you're not crying about it but it's definitely keeping you up at night, right?" Jean's voice was verging on playful and you quickly sent a glare his way. He really did always just say what was on his mind, didn't he?

"Well, it's true, right?" Jean stood from the chair and took a seat on the bed beside you instead. "I'm just curious – and you don't have to answer if you don't want to – but Marco knew, didn't he? I caught him a few times sneaking back into his bed at the most bizarre hours. He was with you, right?"

You nodded in reply to his now serious tone, sitting up straight and shifting a little in your position.

"He never told me even when I asked but I thought that was the case. Shit, now I feel bad for teasing him about it." Jean placed a hand over his face quickly. Tease him about what exactly? Oh well.

"He would comfort me. He said would say stupid things like I was still scared and so I needed him there and he wouldn't leave. And so he'd sit there and hold my hand and tell me "I'm here, its okay." as if that was the solution. Although, I guess I can't really argue since it always worked. I'd always fall asleep in the end and he'd be gone when I woke up. He was too nice, you know – he never asked anything in return even when he did so much for me." You looked towards the desk where Marco's book lie and his small notes were hidden.

_Hey, Marco – I still need your help, you know? Even though you said you wouldn't leave you're not here._

"What, so it's that simple? Say something sooner if that's the case, idiot." Jean stood up abruptly and put his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down onto your bed.

"W-What are you doing?" You asked as he started playing with the blankets and placed them over you.

"I'll do it. I'll stay here and help you fall asleep. I'll even hold your hand if you want." Jean gave you a small grin as he stood above you.

"What? No way. I never asked you to do that." You pushed the blankets off as you sat up again.

"I'm offering, idiot. I said I'd help, didn't I?" Jean was quick to push you back down once more.

"Either way there's no chance. I refuse. Absolutely not." You struggled against him but his arms were stronger than yours, no matter how much you didn't want to admit it. This situation felt vaguely similar to the sparring match from earlier today.

"Just shut up and accept other people's kindness once and a while will you?" Jean's face floated above yours and you could definitely feel your heart beating against your chest now.

"No, no, no. Just no. I didn't tell you all that so you could start saying dumb things like that. It's a shitty idea okay? So no way." When did he begin to make you feel like this? This nervousness, this anxiousness, this completely unexplainable arrhythmia. You were sure you had never felt anything like it before.

"...Is it no good? Will it not work if it's not Marco? Sorry, did I suggest something really dumb?" Jean's expression changed suddenly as he loosened his grip on your shoulders. You stopped struggling and looked up at him as his eyes were filled with a strange sadness you knew too well.

"No, it's not like that. Sorry. I overreacted." You sat up once more, not sure what to do or say. For all of the times you'd been comforted, had you ever done the same? Did you even know how?

Marco – and now Jean, as well – did so much for you just to stop you from being lonely, or stop you from feeling pain. Had you ever done anything in return? For all your talk about friendship just minutes earlier, weren't you the one being the most unfair? You kept telling yourself that there was no way Jean understood the unpleasant and overwhelming emotions that boiled inside of you – but he had lost someone as well. Whether or not he understood exactly how much it hurt – did that even matter? How did you skip over the fact that regardless, Jean was also in pain? It didn't really matter to what degree he understood you since he was _trying._ Could you say the same thing about yourself? Had you done anything to ease his pain in the slightest?

_Hey, Marco. I've changed my mind – you were really bad at judging others._

You realized for the first time the extent of just how much Jean had helped to ease yours.

_I'm weak. I'm so weak it's pitiful._

Those eyes that met yours on that night – was that really a look of pity you saw? Or perhaps it was just the same loneliness reflected back at you and you had just been too selfish to realize.

Once again you realized something about yourself that you had hidden. A part of you wished you hadn't – you hated yourself enough already at this point, isn't it enough? You were childish and evasive so you wanted to make more excuses, to run away from all the thoughts in your own head.

"Ah, did you just apologize? The world must be ending or something." Jean's smile almost seemed forced for a second as he stood from the bed and faced towards the door. Did he plan on leaving?

_Hey, Marco... I have something to say._

"Yeah. I'll apologize as many times as you want me to. For just now and for earlier, too. I went over the top before and acted like a kid. Sorry." You stared at Jean's hand as you spoke as something inside of you was screaming at you to grab a hold of it.

"It's fine. I shouldn't have said that stuff in the first place, though. Although you really shouldn't get so aggressive when I'm your only real friend, you know? What're you gunna do if I end up leaving, huh?" Jean turned his head over his shoulder to meet your eyes and his tone was jesting once more.

"Don't." You looked down at your own hands on the blanket in an attempt to run once again. Not only for Jean but from yourself; you knew you were in over your head from the moment that word escaped your lips.

"Don't? What?" Jean asked in confusion as he turned his body to face you once more. Your heart felt like it was beating in your throat as your pride tried it's hardest to prevent the words from leaving your lips. There was a part of you, however, that knew you needed to. For both Jean's sake and your own.

"Don't leave, idiot." You laid back down on the bed you had fought so hard to get out of earlier, pulling the blankets above your face in the most childish attempt of escaping you had done yet. Even if you wanted to face him head on, after saying something so embarrassing like that it was surely impossible. With nothing but the sound of your damn annoyingly excessive heartbeat and your breathing you could feel the heat in your face rising.

"...Mm. I said I'd stay, didn't I? I haven't broken a promise to you yet and I don't plan to start." You could've sworn you could hear Jean's smile as his voice filled the room accompanied by the sound of the bed creaking. You pulled the blanket's from your eyes to be met with his staring back at you with a warmth you could almost feel. You shifted onto your side, averting your eyes from his once again to try to stop that stupid color that painted your cheeks from deepening.

"Now, move over, will you?"

"Huh? What're you doing?" You rose to your head as the bed began to shift suddenly, your blankets being removed from you as Jean made his way into your bed.

"Going to sleep, idiot. I'm not Marco so I'm not gunna sit there until you don't need me anymore and then sneak back on my own – I'm not _that_ nice of a guy, you know. So instead I'll just sleep here." Jean's voice was its usual condescending tone as if there was nothing strange about the situation at all.

"You're going to sleep in my bed? Beside me? Do you even hear yourself?" Yours on the other hand, was in almost panic as Jean now lay inches away from you.

"I don't see another bed here. Besides, it's easier this way, isn't it? You can't run away like this. If you're worried about something else then don't bother. I'm not going to attack you in your sleep or anything." Jean's hand intertwined with yours underneath the blanket and you wondered where the awkward, timid boy from earlier went? It took everything you had in you just to mutter a couple of out of characters words and yet he seemed to so easily shift from that boy to the man you were very much aware of before you.

"I'm not worried about anything like that! Why would I care, anyways? And who said anything about running away? Besides, think about what you're even saying! This isn't exactly a bed made for two, you know?" You felt like your thinking was becoming less coherent and hoped it didn't come across outwardly.

"You're the type of person that would run unless they had no other choice, right? You're so damn evasive it's hardly even cute anymore. It'll be fine so just shut up and go to sleep." The warmth from Jean's hand made its way into yours once again as he pulled your head back down with his other, practically slamming it into the pillow.

"...Either be a nice guy or an asshole, Jean. You can't have it both ways." After a few moments you had calmed down enough to regain your thoughts. Jean opened his eyes, his face mere inches from yours, before closing them again just as quickly. Could it be that he was nervous as well?

"Shut up already. You won't get any sleep if you keep talking." His reply was as usual but you could swear there was definitely a light shade of pink in his cheeks that wasn't always there.

"The lights, Jean. They're still on. Aren't you forgetting the most important step?" Yeah, it was definitely there. Jean lifted himself out of bed and quickly made his way across the room, flicking off the lights before returning towards the bed.

"Ow. Shit." Jean's voice was a low grumble as you heard a distinct bang.

"Try not to break my stuff, will you?" You smiled as you felt Jean climb back into the bed with you, the blankets shifting for a few moments before settling again.

"Oi, do you know how much that hurt? I think my small toe is what's broken." Jean's voice was so close you could feel the breath as he spoke graze your skin.

"You were bragging about beating me earlier and yet furniture can break your bones?" Ah, it happened again. Somehow all the nervousness and anxiety that had filled your heart moments prior was being melted away by Jean all over again. How did he manage to strip away all of your worries so easily like that? Every wall you built came crumbling down before him as if it was nothing.

"Shut up already. Ah, dammnit. I can't see a damn thing. Where's your hand?" You felt Jean's rough fingers shifting across the bed and you placed yours on top of his without hesitation. If you thought about it logically, this entire situation was wrong. Jean shouldn't be in your bed, you shouldn't be okay with it, and you should definitely not be holding hands as you lay together like some old married couple.

But you weren't thinking about it logically anymore. All you knew about this moment was that annoyingly gentle warmth seemed to be all you needed to feel comfortable again.

"Ah, here. Now get some sleep. I'm here, so it's fine now. I won't go anywhere."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Jean."

Someday you would have to thank him properly.

"Mm, goodnight."

* * *

_I wish I could have said it in time._


End file.
